


The Dragon Rider of Ren

by 5ofSpades



Series: TFA short fills [9]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A Romantic Fairy Tale, Brendol's mom has it goin' on, Cat Hoarding Dragon, Community: tfa_kink, Dragon Caves, Dragon Essence, Dragon Hux, Dubious Morality, F/M, Fairy Tale Parody, Happily Ever After, Humans are Delicious, Humans are not Delicious, Leia Does Not Deserve This Shit, M/M, Mage Kylo, Mildly Dubious Consent, Poor Han Solo, Real Estates, Reptile Biology, Some Tarkins, Sulcus Spermaticus, The Force Smells, Wine Lover Hux, Xeno, love potions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7280449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ofSpades/pseuds/5ofSpades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Kylo Ren puts a new meaning to the term "dragon rider." He bounces and rides Hux' dragon dick.</p><p>Fill: In which reptile reproductive biology papers were quickly read, Kylo Ren the mage apprentice got kicked out of magic school, and author fails at porn and the spirit of the original prompt. Sorry prompt anon.</p><p>AKA a romantic fairy tale featuring cat figurines, roast potatoes, and real estate tours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon Rider of Ren

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe I wrote this.

**

Once upon a time, in the faraway magical kingdoms of Naboo and Alderaan, the twice Princess Leia had denounced the Empire’s engagement and unfair special treatment of dragons.

Though all lives were born with equal value, the dragons were vile, greedy, and selfish beings, who hunted and ate weaker sentient races for sport, and were unrepentant in their habits. How could the Empire give up their own people as ‘necessary’ sacrifices and ignore their own laws on man-slaughter in good conscience, to pacify the dragons for the sole purpose of employing them for unprovoked war?

**

Kylo Ren cursed under his breath as yet another piece of his robe got caught on the protruding rocks he was ambling over. Why did he not simply stick to plain trousers? How was he supposed to look even remotely presentable now, with the bottom of his apprentice’s robe in tatters, and the front of his chest covered in moss (a most unfortunate slip and fall)?

But the Nabooian wine was still cool and intact in the enchanted satchel of preservation slung over his shoulder, and his resolve was still ever firm, his mettle un-rattled.

And thus the mage apprentice soldiered on.

**

Deep inside a cave, the beast stirred.

Did he smell the familiar stench of Force magic? When was the last time he had scented it in his own domain? That sweet and fermented stench like rotting, over-ripe fruit?

And underneath the stench, there was a whiff of another much more pleasant scent, though just as fermented and sweet. How strange to smell the scent of fine wine.

**

The cave of Starkiller was nothing like what Kylo had imagined. There were no piles of gold or treasures, no stripped bones or bloodied feathers, no human skulls displayed in conquest.

The hole in the ceiling of the cave was covered by verdant vines and shimmering magic spelled to look like stained glass. The multicolored light casting through shone on a rich fur rug made from the pelts of a hundred different beasts. And a hundred shelves were carved into the very cave wall, filled with books, random curios, and little statuettes of cats. Some were made from glittering crystals, others gold and precious jewels, and yet more simple clothes and clays. All in all, the circular cavern looked more like the mix of a private study and a sitting room than what the old tales described of a dragon lair. Kylo could spy the start of even more caves through a large arched hole. Any other day, he might have wished to explore them in turn, but right now all of the young mage apprentice’s attentions were not focused on the rare tomes and first editions, not on the bottles and specimens and strangely shaped rocks, or the many cats, but on the largest thing in the entire room, the beast itself.

The beast’s scales were red like blood, orange like sunset, bright like fire. Yet as it lowered its great horned head and peered down at Kylo, the slitted eyes that slowly blinked were cold as ice in the frostiest of winters.

“What brings you to my cave, little human?” asked the beast of the young man. “Do you seek to subjugate me, like the fools sleeping beneath my mother’s garden? Do you seek to steal my rumored treasures, like the knaves filling my father’s pantry?”

“I seek neither, great Starkiller!” Kylo swallowed his pride and presented his offering. “I have heard of your love of wine, and came to share my late grandmother’s wedding brew. And I came hoping that you could offer this humble apprentice a boon in return.”

The beast blinked slowly and sniffed the air with a puff of smoke. Nabooian wine. A most sweet nectar from a dead and gone country. A most sweet and rare nectar indeed.

**

“And this is the boon which you wish to ask of me? You humans have such peculiar tastes and overreaching ambitions,” the dragon commented at the now half-naked human sprawled on his scaled stomach. Even though his underbelly was by no means soft or unprotected, it was still a rare day for him to get on his back for anyone or anything. But this, this looked to be a promisingly novel experience.

“Please, Starkiller. Please fill me up. Fill me up to bursting,” panted the human as he kneaded around the base of the dragon’s strong thick tail.

The hemipenes that peaked out from the cloacal opening were cream white and covered in light orange spicules, which got longer, thicker, and brighter in color nearer the base of the perfectly symmetrical organs.

The pink sulcus spermaticus grooves in each hemipenis were already wet with interest.

**

Kylo winced internally as he saw the size of the dragon’s members, especially the clumps of spicules near the base. He had come well greased and well prepared, but the sight of the alien appendages, so unlike that of a human’s, still filled him with a sense of dread. Hopefully the beast won’t slam its entire organ into him. At least dragons only mated with one hemipenis. Taking both would surely tear him apart.

**

Kylo’s own human penis, sizeable for a man, but nothing compared to that of a dragon, twitched and came for the third time that late afternoon, as the grip of his legs slipped in the pool of dragon sperm under him, and his own weight slammed him all the way down to the root on Starkiller’s left hemipenis (the right one nudged against Kylo’s back, wet and sticky from their last session).

Kylo howled in something between pain and pleasure as the mass of long spicules stretched his already overused hole to the limit.

Oh Force. He was being torn apart. And yet, and yet, he wanted more.

**

The dragon hummed at the human passed out on his stomach, as his hemipenes finally inverted in satiation. 

Desperate little thing, to have spiked the wine with no less than ten slow acting aphrodisiac spells. 

Foolish little thing. Did he not know that dragon sperm was the strongest aphrodisiac of them all?

**

Why can’t dragons pass their semen through a sensible tube instead of a groove? Do they simply hope to inseminate their females through sheer volume alone? So much spillage. Kylo grimaced at the feeling of wetness on his back, across his stomach, down his legs. The excess sperm trickling down from his overstretched hole weren’t helping matters. He need to get out of the cave and bottle the sperm soon, then take a long deep soak in the river. Ugh, he wasn’t sure even his strongest cleansing spells would wash the stuff out.

As he grimaced, another glob of dragon spend spilled down his legs to wet him from pants legs to boots as his inflamed hole made another involuntary spasm. A fortune in healing potions too then. No spell would close his wrecked orifice in time for the advanced levitation class on the morrow.

Thankfully the dragon Starkiller indeed detested the taste of human flesh and loved the taste of human wine as much as rumored, and Kylo was otherwise whole and unharmed.

**

“What do you mean I have failed again? I followed the instructions exactly as you’ve said!” Kylo yelled at his instructor, pale spotted face flushed red in anger and mortification.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, apprentice!” snapped the boorish old instructor. “You have clearly failed to obtain that most important ingredient, the Dragon Essence, and substituted it with gods know what. And indeed you have failed for the last time, Kylo Ren. With this, you are cast out of the academy. In fact, you are not even a mage apprentice anymore.”

Kylo stared at his potion in disbelief, as the old mage turned and walked away, muttering “go apprentice yourself elsewhere, perhaps a smith or butcher or shoe-maker, spoiled little prince of no-one” under his breath.

**

The other apprentices laughed uproariously, sitting warm and cozy in the academy mess hall.

The fool, the fool Kylo Ren. So strong in the Force, yet so unrefined, so uncontrolled. How was this the grandson of the dread grand mage Darth Vader?

The idiot, the idiot Ben Solo. Supposedly noble in birth, yet so under-educated, so misinformed. But then by the time of his birth his kingdoms had already fallen to ruins.

Dragon Essence! It could refer to so many difference things for different authors and different spells. Did he fumble with a poor substitute? Or had the moron really believed what they’d said in jest (though they had appeared ernest and friendly), and managed to find himself some dragon sperm?

How good of the administration to finally cast the man out. The son and nephew of traitors had no place at their tables.

**

Kylo curled up in his own miserable corner at the inn, drowning his ills in drink and drinking the last of his coins away.

Without funds, without room and board, without even the guarantee of his next meal, oh how far the grandchild of Darth Vader had fallen. Now that the path of higher learning (his true calling, Kylo was sure of it) was closed to him, it would be difficult for him to find more mundane employment too. For although the smiths and butchers and shoe-makers cared not for the academy and its strange magic or its failed apprentice Kylo Ren, they knew the face of Ben Solo, the son of the cheating scoundrel Han Solo. And they would spit on their own ancestors’ graves before they offer that man’s son employment, having had a taste of the duplicity of the father. As they all say, the apple does not fall far from the tree. The son of a knave was sure to be a knave himself.

“Son, give up on all that Force non-senses. Look how it had ruined your mother, you uncle. How it had twisted your grandfather, and sunk your mom’s old countries to ruins. I’ve never had the Force, never needed it, and I’ve done pretty well for myself. I’m sure you could too. For once, listen to your old man.” Thoughts of Kylo’s father brought fuzzy remembrance of his words.

And thoughts of Kylo’s father also brought to mind that one chilly autumn morning, two days after little Ben’s fifth birthday, of seeing father and uncle Chewie hanging high from a scaffold in the town square, scoundrels meeting a scoundrel’s end.

How could the other mage apprentices find merriment in drink, when that gift of the fruits and grains brought nothing but melancholy for Kylo Ren?

**

And Kylo was melancholy still, when the innkeeper, finally tired of his moping and vomiting, took the last of the man’s coins and his good cloak as cleaning fees and threw him bodily into the alley outback.

Too sick and tired and dispirited to even move, and still smarting from his foolish encounter with the dragon, Kylo lay motionless in his mud puddle and squinted blearily at the night sky. There were so many little lamps in the sky tonight, all blinking at him. And what is that tall lanky form blocking the pretty view?

**

Kylo Ren woke up with a pounding headache despite drawn satin curtains, a large pillow under his head, and the aroma of strong black caf. 

The man groaned and tried to bury himself deeper into the soft comforter cocooned around him, only to have his face batted at by a pink paw attached to a large orange fur ball.

Kylo half-heartedly tried to bat right back with a long flailing arm, only to miss the fur ball and hit his hand on the nightstand.

Cursing at his smarting hand, Kylo lurched up to cradle said hand to his chest, only to curse twice as hard at his smarting head. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the offending orange ball, sitting prim as it pleased on a cushioned stool at the foot of his bed, grooming itself. On the armchair right next to the stool sat a tall man with equally offensive orange hair, holding a cup of dark caf in his hand. The man’s expression was severe and serious as they came, but there was a faint hint of amusement in his ice blue eyes.

**

“Do I know you?”

“How very rude. Second time have I allowed you into my home and performed a favor for you, and not even a single word of thanks.”

**

By dinner time, Kylo learned that his mysterious benefactor was in fact the dragon Starkiller, and that Starkiller, like all respectable upper-class gentlemen, owned a nicely kept flat in the heart of the capital. 

And Kylo had slept in said flat’s guest bedroom, vomited on said flat’s pristine floor, and sweated into said flat’s owner’s spare bedsheets.

As Kylo sat at the dragon’s table and stuffed his face with bantha steak and baked tatoes, he also learned that Starkiller’s name was actually Hux, Brendol Hux, after the dragon’s own father.

**

Two weeks after one Mr. Brendol Hux Jr. had registered the hiring of a live-in handyman with the city’s employment and household population registration agency, Kylo found out that Hux’s human dick made for a much more comfortable ride.

Two months after rewiring and re-flooring the attic of Hux’s flat, Kylo moved all of his beddings to the master bedroom, and left the guest room bed to its original owner, the magnificent Miss Millicent (or as Kylo would call her, the hell-spawn housecat).

**

In the months that followed, Hux showed Kylo some of his other flats and cottages and woodland shacks. A smart dragon was a well-prepared dragon, and all smart dragons remembered, either from experience or the caution of their elders, of how the kingdoms used to actively hunt them down and destroy their nests before the Empire came along.

Overreacting humans. They only snatched up and ate so very few, and there were so many of them. Do the humans not slaughter and eat lesser cattle and sheep too?

Kylo pointed out cattle and sheep could not fight back, otherwise they’d be raising armies to flatten human towns in retaliation too. After some back and forth arguments, he and Hux had agreed to disagree.

Hux took Kylo back to the cave where they first met as well, one of his secondary dragon dens, though a personal favorite, with its library of books and collection of cat figures. And on the fur rug Hux pushed his pet human down onto his back, mapped the constellation of moles on his pale skin, and rode the man’s impressive member (for a human) until its spend filled Hux to bursting.

**

Two new summers passed peacefully with Kylo distracting himself with busywork and sex all over Hux’s numerous properties and dens, actively not thinking about the Force, the academy, or the failed legacy of his grandfather (save for the one time he had bloodied an ex-classmate’s face with his fist and broke his bones with the Force, after the man had mocked and questioned Kylo and Kylo’s parents’ virtues openly at the day market. An irate Hux had to bail him out of jail).

And Kylo Ren had thought the world of magic and mysteries beyond him now (never mind that he was literally living with a dragon), with no master to teach him, no institute that would take him in. His education started late due to an unstable and migratory childhood, and his understanding of the Force had always suffered and lagged behind his peers as a result. Despite years struggling to catch up, Kylo could not even trust himself with many intermediate level spells and potions, lest he erred too greatly one last time.

Kylo had thought true mastery of the Force beyond him now, until one cool evening before the fall harvest festival. After enjoying a dinner of sweet pumpkin pie and a rump in the sheets, lethargic from the heavy meal and well-sated from sex, Kylo had asked, off-handedly, why Hux had spared and humored him all those moons ago, despite Kylo’s duplicities (he was so humiliated when he learned Hux had seen through his ploy at first glance).

Hux puffed out a smoke ring and reclined on the bed, eyes half-lidded in remembrance.

“You reminded me of the tale of how my father and mother had first met. And I had rather liked your oversized ears and dotted coloration.”

Hux then proceeded to tell the tale of how the Lord of Arkanis came to have an heir, and why said heir preferred human wine over human flesh.

**

“My father’s house was a cave deep in the wetlands of Arkanis, with very few polite visitors save for the taxman and the occasionally lost flyers delivery boy. And the solitude suited him well, after the overexcitement and strain of two long and difficult wars.

One day my father was visited by someone who was neither the taxman nor a delicious delivery boy, but a young human woman, a bit younger than your current age even. And she expressed her admiration of my father’s past military conquests and vast stature, and begged him to lie with her.

Bored and intrigued, and without a female dragon or princess for miles around, my father acquiesced to the unusual request, then followed his strange suitor in secret when she made her way back to the human settlements of Arkanis.

Turned out the woman was a Force witch, and she had lain with my father in order to obtain his sperm, the most lauded ingredient for a most subtle aphrodisiac potion. The woman was determined and ambitious, and mixed the brew with governor Tarkin’s youngest son in mind, hoping to become an upper-class lady instead of just a seamstress’s daughter.

What she did not count on was the penetrative ability of penile spines and the potency of a dragon’s seed, or the short gestation period of my father’s particular species. So she became the village disgrace before she could get the chance to enact her plan.

Though my father was no longer in his prime, he still cut a very respectable figure. And the woman’s father very quickly went from screeching rage to friendly smiles, when father showed him his land deeds and considerable list of properties, and promised that though the man’s daughter was already not a maiden when he took her, he would still pay the bride price in full.

And so my mother moved into my father’s countryside cottage, now a very well-married lady of means who could afford cooks and maids and her own seamstresses to make her fashionable maternity dresses, and I was born and hatched. As the union was both practical and amorous, there were six sisters born after me, each married better than the last to different corners of the Empire.

And when you came through the mouth of my cave with your offering and suggestion, I was most strongly reminded of the story of my own origins, and granted you your request on a whim. And on a whim I had followed you, just like how my father had followed my mother thirty some summers ago. What a coincidence, that we both live in the same city, Kylo Ren.”

“And Kylo, there you have the explanation of my un-dragonlike palate also. Though I could, and have, eaten humans, I could not fully enjoy the taste of their flesh when they smelled faintly similar to my own dear mother, now could I? And since my father was actually well-acquainted with governor Tarkin, having fought in two wars together, my family was often invited to the Tarkins’ social events, and that was where I had acquired a taste for fine wine.

And while we are on the topic of my parents and Tarkins and wine, my mother had learned about the registration of a live-in handyman at my flat, and had been intrigued to meet you, seeing how the son she remembered had always lived alone before. Now we are obligated to visit, to sate her curiosity if nothing else. Perhaps you could improve your potion brewing techniques with some tutelage from my mother as well? Your hangover potions taste absolutely awful, even if they do get the job done.”

**

Kylo was squeezed into a new tailored robe, but not before it also got dusted over by a layer of orange fur courtesy of Hux’s overfed and sadistic shedding fiend.

After a six hours flight by dragon back (the proper way to ride a dragon, really), Kylo received an overwhelmingly enthusiastic welcome by one ginger Hux Sr. and his equally ginger wife. He was then stuffed with a large dinner, shown paintings of a pale speckled egg, an unsmiling ginger child, a toothy orange dragonling, and the selfsame creature as a young man, still unsmiling and severe, surrounded by six lovely red-headed girls of varying ages. A good portion of the evening was then spent crowded in Lady Hux’s potion lab.

A few days later, with all the orange cat hair carefully rolled off of his robe and his sleep cycle fully readjusted (dragon-flight-lag), Kylo was introduced to the adult children of the late governor Tarkin, and nearly came to tears when they recalled how their father had worked ever closely with Lord Darth Vader.

And the youngest Tarkin son’s wife, who was a bit of a Force-sensitive herself, introduced Kylo to her master in the arts, the powerful dark wizard, Lord Snoke.

**

“An unfortunate waste truly, that humans and halflings could not change their genders when reproductive needs call,” commented the Lord of Arkanis.

“I would so love to take care of any egg of yours, darling. But the contentment of your heart is far more important,” cooed his Lady.

“Please, mother, father. One could always adopt from a branch offshoot. Or failing that, enact one of the older dragon fertility rituals. The availability of offspring had never particularly concerned me. But to have the powerful yet unguided grandson of Darth Vader trained and in our debt, now that would be a great boon to our glorious Empire, as well as our family,” said Hux Jr. as he sipped his wine.

**

When green trees and rolling hills burned with smoke and fire, stone houses and straw cottages pushed over and crushed with the casual swipe of a tail, and city after city fell to the might of the Empire’s invading armies, people looked to the sky in fear, looking for the cursed Knights of Ren, dragon riders and red right hand of the militant and expansionistic Empire.

And dying soldiers and orphaned children alike cursed the name of Kylo Ren, the Master Knight Rider of the dreaded red dragon Starkiller, butchers of the entire city state of Hosnian Prime and her satellites.

**

All lives were born with equal value, and by the force of natural evolution, so were they all, at their most base, be they humans or dragons or anything else, vile, greedy, and selfish things, who robbed the infirm and hurt the weak for profit and sport.

And the soul of Princess Leia wept in the Force, for her son, her poor lost boy, would not be joining her in the light of the Force by the end of his days after all.

**

_The End_


End file.
